


Warm Hands

by peacefulboo



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Injury Recovery, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-02 02:56:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2797067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peacefulboo/pseuds/peacefulboo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It starts with Clarke refusing to sleep in her mother’s quarters at Camp Jaha. As glad as she is that her mother is alive, and she is really, really glad, living with Abby would be stifling in ways that Clarke can’t afford right now. </p>
<p>She bunks with Raven instead. Or rather, with Raven and Monroe and Mel. It’s a tight squeeze but the three who have been on earth are used to it and Mel is down for anything that isn’t hanging from a cliff for days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warm Hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [magisterequitum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magisterequitum/gifts).



It happens slowly, gently and then all at once and so fucking intense that they can’t look each other in the eye for three days without super dopey grins. 

It starts with Clarke refusing to sleep in her mother’s quarters at Camp Jaha. As glad as she is that her mother is alive, and she is really, really glad, living with Abby would be stifling in ways that Clarke can’t afford right now. 

She bunks with Raven instead. Or rather, with Raven and Monroe and Mel. It’s a tight squeeze but the three who have been on earth are used to it and Mel is down for anything that isn’t hanging from a cliff for days. 

Clarke almost always gets back to their quarters last, after everyone’s settled in for the night. At first they all just sleep huddled together on one large stuffed pallet. It’s warm which is nice. But it’s also cramped and with so many injuries it makes for some restless nights. 

“Fuck,” Raven hisses out when Monroe climbs over her to head out to the latrine in the middle of the night. 

“Sorry! Sorry,” Monroe whispers before slipping out. Raven would move to the middle but with her back and her leg still healing, it’s hard enough getting up and down from the edge of the bed, much less trying to crawl over a person.

Clarke stirs at the movement and noise and whispers, “You okay?”

“Fine,” Raven murmurs back. She hurts but it’s more of an ache and there’s no indication of new trauma so she wills herself to relax and fall back to sleep. 

When she next wakes up, she’s surprised to see Clarke’s still asleep, curled up directly in front of her. From the way the weak light is filtering under the door she’s pretty sure the sun is up past the mountain range where the Ark is nestled. She’s gonna be late to her station but she doesn’t move to get up. 

Instead, she takes the time to look at Clarke, really look at her. The cuts and bruises on her face have mostly healed by this point, but some of them will probably take a while longer to fade into faint scars. There are constant dark circles under her eyes and the way her eyelids are flickering tell Raven that Clarke is deep into dream land. The way her brow furrows tells her the dream probably isn’t pleasant. 

She presses a chaste kiss to Clarke’s brow. It’s impulsive and a little odd. They aren’t the type of friends to be outwardly affectionate. It’s not their way. But Clarke huffs out a sigh and her brow relaxes a little. 

Raven shakes her head and slowly starts to sit up. Getting out of bed is generally the worst part of her day. She’s never enjoyed leaving the warmth of her bed; the Ark was always freezing and they landed on the ground on the cusp of winter so it hasn’t been much better. Now, sleeping in one position all night on a lumpy pallet leaves her stiff as hell and the pain that flares through her lower back and down through her left leg has her biting her forearm as she tries to muffle her yelp. It only half works. 

“Shit,” she draws out in a whisper as she manages to pull herself up to a fully seated position. The longer sleep may have been awesome for her mind, but it’s left her even more immobile than usual. She stays seated for a moment, catching her breath and gathering up the fortitude to get all the way up. She’s glad that Mel and Monroe are already out of the room and that Clarke’s still asleep. 

Or so she thought. 

Raven’s about to bite the bullet and try and lever herself up with the cane that’s by the bed when she feels Clarke grab her wrist. 

“This is worse than normal, yeah?” Clarke’s voice is low and sleepy, but Raven can tell from the tone that she’s fully awake. 

“It’s fine,” Raven replies. 

Clarke sits up behind her and gently lays her hands across Raven’s lower back. Clarke’s hands seem to be sleep-warmed, which Raven is grateful for since she always wakes up with freezing hands and feet. Clarke slowly, gently, begins to massage the muscles at the base of Raven’s spine using a technique that her one of her mother’s techs had taught her a few years before. The wound is still healing, so she has to work around it. It’s not a therapeutic, deep massage but it’s enough to help loosen the muscles around the wound and allow for a little more ease of movement. 

Clarke works on those muscles for five or so minutes, Raven leaning forward with her arms resting on her thighs, lightly stretching the area at the same time. Slowly, Clarke works her hands up Raven’s back. The other muscles have overcompensated while the lower muscles recuperate and her whole body is a series of excruciating knots at this point. 

There’s a part of Raven that wants to tell Clarke she can stop. To thank her and let her get on with her day. But there’s another part that really needs someone to touch her. And more and more she’s wanted it to be Clarke. This kind, fierce girl-woman who is so far from fearless, who can be so stupidly brave. Having Clarke’s focus on her is intense and overwhelming, but she doesn’t want her to stop. 

“This would work better if you were lying on your belly,” Clarke tells her, her lips close to Raven’s ear. “And if you lose the shirt. I think it’s a salve day.” Raven sits up to remove her shirt, uses her stronger leg to help push her a little more toward the middle of the pallet and lays face down with arms bent so her hands are up by her head. 

Clarke moves off the bed to get the small tub of arnica salve from the shelf by the doorway then returns to kneel beside Raven. She begins applying the salve into her skin, carefully avoiding the still-healing bullet wound at the base of her spine. There are other herbs and oils in the salve that help ease the acute pain and smell amazing, and soon Raven is dozing off again. 

“Do you want me to do your shoulders too?” Clarke asks. 

She does, but she knows her leg needs it more and while Lincoln and Nyko have been generous with their formulas, there’s still a long winter ahead and she knows they should conserve as much as they can. 

“Would you mind working on my leg a bit?” She asks, looking back slightly to see Clarke smiling at her.

“Sure,” Clarke agrees and quickly helps her shuck her pants and Raven shivers a little in the cold, so Clark covers her right leg and upper body with one of Monroe’s blankets. Raven’s glad that her roommates dig the smell of the salve since the scent tends to cling to anything it touches. 

Clarke uses more force on Raven’s thigh than she does on her lower back and Raven sucks and blows her breaths through her teeth until she gets used to the intensity. While there are definitely spots on her thigh that are numb, there are patches where she still feels every whisper of breath and every bone crunching knead of Clarke’s hands. 

She’s regained the most sensation in her inner thigh, mostly down toward her knee, but there are definitely spots higher up, close to her bikini line that, when touched just the right way, seem to respond way more intensely than they did before her injury. 

She instructs Clarke to work more on the outer thigh than the inner, and she does, but her fingers still stray inward from time to time, the pressure hard and strong and then light and soothing. She can’t keep herself from letting out a soft gasp when the last pass is up in the crease and she shudders. “Fuck,” she bites out. 

“You okay?” Clarke asks from behind her. 

It’s not really pleasure that she’s feeling, and it’s not pain. But her body is reacting like it’s the best feeling ever and she’s not entirely convinced that she didn’t just have some weird sort of orgasm. Huh. 

“I think so?” she answers, completely bewildered. 

“You want me to stop?” Clarke asks. Raven can picture her biting her lip in concern. She really, really just wants to look at her right now. She shrugs and rolls back onto her right side.

Clarke looks at her intently, curiosity reflecting in her eyes. 

“I’m not sure,” she hesitates, but then remembers that Clarke is her friend and maybe she’d understand what’s been going through her head and body these last few weeks. “Lately when you touch me I--,” she pauses trying to find the right words before thinking fuck it and finishing, “I get turned on.” She keeps her voice calm and matter-of-fact.

Clarke cocks her head to the side and purses her lips for a moment before nodding. “Is it just when I touch you? And if so, is it when I touch you anywhere or are there specific spots?”

“Just you. When Jackson or Abby or Octavia work on it, I relax and the muscles release, but nothing else.”

“And with me?” Clarke shifts so she’s laying on her side facing Raven, her head propped up on her hand. “Is it all the time or just when I’m working specific spots?”

Raven sighs. She’s glad Clarke isn’t peering down at her anymore. “Mostly when you’re working on my leg, sometimes when you’re working just above my ass or when your hands brush my sides and neck.”

Clarke is quiet for a moment and then reaches out a hand to grab Raven’s and idly plays with her fingers for a bit before lacing hers through them. 

“Sometimes it happens to me, too. When you hug me from behind and rest your chin on my shoulder or when you link your arm through mine,” Clarke says, voice still low. But she smirks a little. “And I think there’s a reason that we always end up next to each other in bed, even when we start off with Monroe or Mel in between. I like being next to you.”

Raven lets that sink in a little. She’s not alone in this. “So it’s not just me?”

Clarke shakes her head, “It’s not just you, Raven. Definitely not just you.” 

She lets go of Raven’s hand and moves to brush a strand of hair off Raven’s forehead. And then slowly, keeping eye contact the whole time, she shifts so her weight is on her forearm and softly, but firmly, kisses Raven, her chapped, dry lips moving against Raven’s chapped, dry lips.

When she pulls away, she’s still looking intently at Raven. She’s smiling bright and happy and relaxed, and Raven realizes it’s a look she’s rarely seen on Clarke’s face. 

She smiles back and leans in for another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no clue if this is what you were hoping for, but I hope you dig it. Happy Yuletide!


End file.
